


ever since my car broke down, i've needed a lift.

by Prettything_uglylie



Series: the leaflets that fall out when you shake the book [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: ...maybe so, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Inspired by Richard Siken, M/M, Minor Isaac Lahey/Danny Mahealani, Pining, Self-Discovery, Set Around s2-3, Sexuality Crisis, Siken References Galore!, Stiles Stilinski Has ADHD, Stiles Stilinski Is Bad at Feelings, but please enjoy, did i use siken as a writing inspiration for this?, i kinda like it for stiles, i know the writing style here is WACK!, i think it fits him, they both suck at this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:02:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27631778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prettything_uglylie/pseuds/Prettything_uglylie
Summary: When attempting to figure things about himself out, Stiles Stilinski finds a strange amount of comfort in Danny Mahealini.excerpt:It's a small passage but it hits as infinitely more personal and almost like it could be about him alone, but it's not. It's written by a lover, by someone fond of him, of this boy.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: the leaflets that fall out when you shake the book [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1415044
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	ever since my car broke down, i've needed a lift.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written a lot for this fandom in a while and I had a bit of inspiration so I decided to write this out! I hope you like it!

It starts with a poem. 

It starts with a poem and he's stuck and it's ridiculous but he can't stop staring at this poem in a poetry book that's been in his attic so long it's collected dust and the only reason he knows it exists was because he was making a half-assed attempt at sleep before remembering this novel he read when he was thirteen. His only thought had been _I want to read that book again._

There was something about novels that had a way of capturing a time and place in your mind and if he could sit on his bed and read those words he had peered down at in the gentle glow of his room as he heard his father downstairs puttering away, he could be back to those times. Those simple times where he would read until his father went to bed to make sure he got there and then, read until his eyes fell closed and he couldn't any longer. 

He had been looking for the book - he swears _he had been looking for the book._

He had gotten lost on the way. He had found the poems instead and he was so wrapped up in them, he forgot what the title of the book he was looking for is. 

His heart beats steadily with every line and his skin flushed hot with every allegory that fit and Stiles thinks of Scott saying _this is our song_ in the passenger seat of the Jeep about some generic love song he and Allison must have listened to a few times. He wonders if this is what it feels like. 

_This is our song -_

**"You're in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won't tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you've done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you're tired. You're in a car with a beautiful boy, and you're trying not to tell him that you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling, and you're trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you've discovered something you didn't even have a name for."**

_This is our song, Derek._

* * *

[ it doesn't start with a poem. the boy will lie to himself and pretend it starts with the poem but it doesn't. 

It starts with a boy named Mieczyslaw and another boy that if squinted back to might be named David - but it doesn't matter because _David_ doesn't matter, he may not have even been real, or no longer is real, is maybe dead in a ditch somewhere or moved to Morraco and adopted nineteen cats or wherever he is, _Stiles_ doesn't miss him. David is simply a concept, a boy with wide brown eyes and a crooked jaw that had made Mieczyslaw think of Scott and of how he feels for Scott, how his heart has sat in his throat waiting for the day that Scott may kiss him like Scott talks about wanting to kiss Sarah Hunan. 

They had been alone one day, seven years old and discarded to the side already when deemed out of use, but David had looked at Mieczyslaw assessingly and had said, "Hey Stiles, I think you're pretty cool." 

And it had felt like a love confession. It had felt like the kisses his mother pressed to his forehead and the gruff _I love you, son._ s that Sheriff Noah Stilinski was famous for. It had felt like a gunshot, how it penetrated the skin and left blood and life source pouring out of him, like everyone could see this dirty little wound and everyone could see this thing he can't hide but no one could help him. It had felt like getting shot by the police's gun. 

he had not been called Stiles then. He had went home and told his parents he had a new name, _Stiles,_ a gift from a boy he doesn't remember anymore. 

And he really thought this all started with a poem. 

* * *

_How to tell a Sourwolf you're in love with him_ sits in his Google search history. 

It sits there for days and hours and maybe even years and Stiles is so grateful that his father is an Old Man with no technological skills because he doesn't think he could explain it even to himself - **a man takes his sadness and throws it away, but then he's still left with his hands.**

He texts Danny before he looks at the google results. Danny is safe, Danny knows how to be this - how to be this _whatever-he-is -_ and he can tell Stiles, he can give Stiles answers to questions he's too scared to ask Google. 

_Have you ever heard of Siken?_ he texts, instead of anything that means anything. 

* * *

_Have you ever heard of Siken?_

the poet? 

yeah, stiles

why? 

_I found one of his poems._

okay? 

oh. 

_I like it._

_It's good poetry._

yeah, it is. 

* * *

Danny approaches him in the locker room the Monday following their texts and Stiles is ready to shrug the whole thing off - he's _very_ good at avoiding problems until they go away, or until they drive him insane and he can no longer sleep. 

But Danny says, walking towards him when Scott is on a tangent about Allison and he swipes by them, pressing a little too close to Stiles as he huffs out, "Text me whenever." 

It feels like a promise, like a scary olive branch and for a moment, he's frozen. He is certain this is the moment where everything changes, where he's seen for who he is and even Scott will see how transparent and broken he is but Scott is full of light and acceptance and he knows Scott won't be too weird about it.

It still scares him to death, he wants to bury himself inside of dirt that he isn't sure would even accept him anymore. Scott looks at him, eyes the shade of dirt, of the coffin Stiles has not bought, his tilted mouth, his perfect lips, form around the words, "What's that about?" 

"Don't know," he lies - he's fluent in lies, in anxiety, in words he should say but never has. Scott's the brave one, they all know that, and Stiles is perfectly comfortable hiding behind him for the rest of their lives. He jokes, hides behind those too, like it's easy, "Must finally find me attractive." 

Scott's laughter feels like gasoline poured into his wildfire of a human body. 

* * *

you know Isaac likes boys too, right? 

if you aren't comfortable talking to me about this 

_danny, i am ten times more confident talking to you about this  
than i ever would be isaac lahey_

_how'd you know he likes boys?_

we're dating. 

_oh_.

* * *

The next day he notices the smiles and looks Danny and Isaac give each other, the next day he makes sense of the way they walk a little too close or how Isaac averts his eyes with respect and a fluster on his rosy cheeks when Danny takes his shirt off in the locker room which Danny returns the favor with lingering glances and leering jokes whispered between them. 

He feels like Scott, like he's been oblivious to something good for so long. 

Stiles is choked up when he realizes the name he's been thinking he wants that with, as he watches them. He can't breathe. 

( the boy goes home and has a panic attack with the name _Derek_ spewing from his lips. ) 

* * *

**Sourwolf.**

stiles 

_yeh?_

_**yeah?_

_sorry had too much adderall today_

it's okay 

have you ever read this piece? 

_{screenshot105.jpg}_

* * *

The piece Derek gives him makes it worse. He doesn't know how Derek knows, or maybe he does - maybe it's that his lock screen is now Siken's you're in the care with a beautiful boy piece, maybe it's that Derek always knows. Maybe Danny told him. Maybe he and Derek are so bound together in space and time and these feelings that Derek just knows.

It's a small passage but it hits as infinitely more personal and almost like it could be about him alone, but it's not. It's written by a lover, by someone fond of him, of this boy. This boy, _the_ boy, gets poems divested about him and he's surprised Derek Hale likes Siken. He's surprised that he's not surprised. 

_In the dreams it's always you:_

_the boy in the sweatshirt,_

_the boy on the bridge, the boy who always keeps me_

_from jumping off the bridge._

_Oh, the things we invent when we are scared_

_and want to be rescued._

_Your jeep. Your teeth. The coffee that you bought me._

* * *

**Sourwolf.**

I'm in love with you too. 

**Author's Note:**

> i guess it's up to you how Derek found out! I hope you enjoyed this! Kudos and comments are great and heavily appreciated!


End file.
